“I’d rather have my grandmother not find out that I was doing things she wouldn’t like than get any credit,” said Jaime. Tess and Theo nodded.

“I have a grandmother like that,” said Janice. “All right. No mention of you to anyone, right, Bibi?”

“I’m thirty-three years old, and my parents are still mad I didn’t take John Park to my senior prom,” said Bibi. “My lips are sealed.” She planted a kiss on top of Nine’s head. Nine received this kiss as if it was her due.

Janice peered once again down the stone steps. “Until I decide what to do, I’m going to close this door. A little help, please?”

Theo, Tess, Jaime, and both women heaved the jagged stone “door” closed. Once it was shut, the stones met so seamlessly you couldn’t tell there was ever an opening there at all. Which, thought Theo, was likely the point.

“Well, children, it has been interesting meeting you,” said Janice the Goddess, “but my afternoon is booked solid. I think it’s time for you and your sabertooth friend to get on home.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” said Jaime. “We appreciate that.”

“I’m sure you do,” said Janice. She pointed to one end of the grand room, where yet another door was marked Exit. “The storefront is that way. Walk straight through to get to the street. You can see yourselves out. But don’t touch anything!”

They all turned to go when Janice added, “And maybe don’t hang around construction sites from now on. You don’t want to get in trouble, do you?”

“Too—” said Tess.

“—late,” said Theo.

Theo, Tess, Jaime, and Nine got to the front door of Jennings’s Fine Designs without destroying any of the handmade clothing, knocking over any of the racks, exploding anything, or getting cat hair on any of the patrons. (That is, the patrons who didn’t want to get cat hair on themselves; some of the people were terrified of Nine, some were helpless in the face of her and couldn’t keep their hands off her, that is, when she wished it. It was her superpower. Among many.)

Once they were out on the street, Theo pointed to the dry-cleaning shop next door. He whispered, “The paper we found said—

“—TLJ,” Tess finished for him.

Jaime pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Let’s go in.”

The place was warm and bright, packed with customers handing in tickets despite the late hour. Thomas L. Jennings memorabilia hung all over the brick walls and under the glass countertop at the front of the store. When Theo handed his ticket to the harried, red-faced clerk, the clerk glanced down at it, then looked up at Theo.

“Is this is a joke?”

“No joke,” said Theo.